


You're a Dowsing Rod for Conflict

by A_Song_to_Say_Goodbye



Series: Push-Pull [3]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Song_to_Say_Goodbye/pseuds/A_Song_to_Say_Goodbye
Summary: Gakushu attempts high school.Originally written for Karushuu Week Summer 2016.





	You're a Dowsing Rod for Conflict

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Competition

God friggin hell damn it, Akabane wants more competition? Gakushū would give him some goddamn competition!

He slams the door of his locker shut, still seething with rage. Ever since they entered high school together, Akabane has made a habit of turning every little thing into a competition, including really dumb crap like, “Who can drink strawberry milk faster?” (which Gakushū lost, of course he lost, that stuff basically runs through Akabane’s veins, and it’s too goddamn sweet anyways. What is he, a little kid? Then again, that does match his maturity levels). Sadly, they’re in the same homeroom, so Gakushū is stuck with every single class full of pure, undiluted Akabane Karma.

It’s gotten to the point where their homeroom teacher started leaving a coin-sized disc engraved with their names within easy reach of the board, to be flipped when their hands go up at the same time. The last time Gakushū flubbed an answer (that kanji hasn’t been used in centuries! There’s a reason it’s not on the government-approved list!) Akabane somehow procured a bouquet of flowers and left them on his desk during lunch break. With a card. That read: I’m so sorry for your loss.

Gakushū nearly kicked his soccer ball at Akabane’s head that day. There hadn’t been any witnesses. He could’ve gotten away with it if he hadn’t been sure Akabane would’ve deflected the ball at a bystander. Sometimes he swears that the only reason they haven’t both been expelled is that they’re single-handedly bringing up the school’s nation-wide testing averages.

The result of this aggravating mess is that Gakushū’s official test scores are all perfect. But that doesn’t solve the problem; Akabane’s are too, and sometimes, he even manages to earn  _extra credit_. Gakushū never thought that those two words would be the bane of his existence.

He wants to call Shiota Nagisa and personally congratulate him on maintaining a friendship with that nightmare-inducing bastard for so long. He wants to call Isogai Yūma and ask for tips on management of demonic geniuses and avoiding committal of homicide (or at least on how to best hide the bodies).

“But Asano,” Akabane says in his ear, dropping flashily into the chair next to him, “then your life would be boring, wouldn’t it? And your scores would drop back down.” He tsks and shakes his head. “Youth these days. No self-motivation,” he proclaims, with the barest edge of wistfulness.

Gakushū snorts. “That’s rich, coming from you,” he mutters, his pencil digging into his math paper as he curses every star that their surnames start with the same syllable. Akabane can talk about the errors of youth once he can do something as simple as follow the dress code.

(Still, there’s a kernel of truth to what he’s saying. The idea of beating the smirk off that cocky brat’s face is the best motivation Gakushū’s ever had.)


End file.
